Fieldtrip
by Simahoyo
Summary: Maura gets invited along on a field trip to some Adena archeology sites with Sarah and Granny Harjo. How well does she mix with this odd pair of Native American women?
1. Chapter 1

Field Trip

By Simahoyo

( Maura gets invited along on a field trip to some Adena archeology sites with Sarah and Granny Harjo. How well does she mix with this odd pair of Native American women?)

Maura was feeling left out. Jane was out of town on a case. Angela was in Atlantic City, and her parents had gone to New Zealand to look at filming locations. Yoshima was hardly a close enough friend to ask over. She berated herself for not getting to know her co-workers better.

As if in answer to her needs, her phone rang. When she answered she was quite surprised to hear the voice of Sarah Harjo's grandmother.

"Sarah and I are goin' out to Brookfield to look at something real old they found out there, and I just wanted to ask if you want to come on along."

"Considering who I'm speaking with, what is your definition of, 'old'?"

"I'd say about 3,000 years or so."

"I would be delighted. When do you plan to leave?"

"We think maybe this Saturday, if you can go."

"That sounds good. Where would you like to meet?"

"If you don' mind, we kin pick you up."

"What time?"

"We should git on the road about 10 in the mornin'. How do we git thar?"

Maura gave directions, and smiled at the invitation. She had no idea what this might be like, but was fairly certain she would learn more about Sarah and her grandmother. She felt far more cheerful as she googled the area they would be going to.

Granny Harjo and Sarah cooked that night, making fry bread, peach jam, BBQ ribs, greens, corn bread, fried chicken and stewed summer squash with green tomatoes. They got up early to put the hot foods , covered in aluminum foil into an insulated container wrapped in news paper. The cold items went into a cooler with ice. Nobody starved in their presence.

They stuffed the food into the trunk of their old station wagon, along with blankets and some tarps. Weather changed, and they knew it, having come originally from Oklahoma. Sarah took a google map with her along with directions to Maura's house, while Granny relaxed in the roomy passenger's seat. Their books were already under the seat.

It was one of those spring days that could turn from cool and breezy to cold and wet in seconds. The station wagon pulled into Maura's drive and waited. No one came up to the door, so she popped her head out, while Sarah and her Granny waved at her. She shrugged, figuring it was some sort of rural manners, and came out to join them. Sarah pushed the back door open for her.

"Hi. Good to see you. You got enough room back thar?"

"I'm fine. Thank you."

"Good. Where we're goin' is about an hour away, even as slow as Sarah drives."

"Granny, if you had seen some of the accident victims we have, you'd slow down too."

"Is that right?"

"Yes, it is. Jane is always complaining when I ask her to slow down."

"Well, I spose it's because you got so many other cars on the road here. You ever been to Oklahoma?"

"No. I haven't."

"We just got miles and miles of miles and miles."

Maura laughed, imaging roads that empty. "Where are were going?"

"They have what they call an Adena site up there. Actually, it seems to me it's some sorta pre-Toltec town. It don't fit all the thangs with_ Tula_ or some variation in thar name."

Maura sat up straighter. Accent aside, Granny sounded extremely well educated in archeology.

"So you believe the Toltecs made it how far north?"

"Wisconsin, I would say. The site fits their pattern. But we have access to records some archeologists don't have.", said Sarah.

"Are you talking about the Wallum Olum?", asked Maura.

Granny and Sarah both gave a little jump. Granny elbowed Sarah.

"Din't I tell ya."

"What?"

Sarah's voice was calm, with an undercurrent of excitement.

"Granny and I had a little bet. She said because you have deep set eyes, and high cheekbones.."

"And them eye folds like we got."

"Yes, I know, Granny. Maura, do you have shovel shaped incisors?"

"Only one."

"See, I tol' you."

"Do you have Native American Ancestors?"

"I think nearly every French Canadian has. Why do you ask?"

"Cause we think you're gonna really love this."

Granny slid a heavy book out from under Sarah's seat and handed it to Mara.

"Rightcher is our Migration story. After you read about ten pages of insults, you get to the real story. Them Anthropologists don't know their landmarks, so they missed that we start out in Anasazi country. We cross from there over the Little Colorado River, inta Texas, and cross the Mississipi, probably in canoes or on rafts, then we meet up with the White Towns, that's a political division, and the Yuchees, and become one people."

Maura followed her finger on the map, which traced a different route than shown in the printed version. She nodded, interested in this different version.

"Now our word for town is Tula. The capitol of the Toltec Empire in Mexico was Tula. So we have all these variations of that word in our town names, like Tulsa, Tahola, Tallasee..you need to know the language to see the pattern. And here..."

She paged to a different part of the book with a drawing of an Indian town.

"See how they have two pyramids, one at each end of the town."

"Yes. There appears to be an important building on each pyramid."

"Yes. One's the Temple, the other's the Micco's house. He's the head man."

"And this is the basic configuration of all the places named a variation of Tula?"

"I told you she'd get it fast, Granny."

"You're right. It's why she's a teacher."

"A teacher?"

"It's a bigger deal than you know. It's a position of honor. Higher than Chief

Medical Examiner.", said Sarah.

"Oh, well then thank you."

"So why we think these Adena folks are pre-Toltec, is that their places are configured different than ours. And their languages have a real different base. They gotta be thar before the Lenape and they was after us, so, them Algonquins gotta be real early. "

"And you base this on how the towns were constructed and the languages?"

"Yes." Granny put the migration book back under the seat and pulled a small notebook and pen out of her voluminous purse. She drew a series of pictographs. "See, these here are from the Wallum Olum. And these here are Micmac, from Quebec. See how they seem to be based on a common use of pictographs, but not the same language or symbols?"

"That's very interesting. What did your writing look like?"

"Now you'll never get her to stop. " laughed Sarah.

"When you know how to read morn two sentences, you kin mock me." Then she drew a man facing to the left as a river of snakes flowed past him. "That's someone seein' the future. The other way, he's seeing the past. Snakes represent time."

"So the pictures are concepts?"

"Yes. So, if someone spoke something as different from Muskogee as Miccasukee, they could still read everything.. If they did it by the sound, they would never have been able to send messages along such long trade routes.", added Sarah.

"Trade routes. Can you give me an example?"

"Down the St Lawrence, through the Great Lakes, goin' around the Niagra Falls, of course, down the Mississippi, and all over the Gulf of Mexico, then back up the Atlantic. That was one."

"I'm impressed. I hadn't thought of water routes."

"That's why the canoe was king. Kin you picture takin' off on one of them journeys to trade, oh, copper and quahog shells or furs for obsidian and bird feathers, maybe shark's teeth?"

"How else did they communicate?"

"Sign language. It ain't just in the movies."

"That makes sense."

"Look, we made it to Brookfield.', Sarah nodded at the sign.

They spotted the sign for the Adena site a few yards after, and followed the signs to an open field, bordered by a brick building and a parking lot. The building was a museum. They went into the museum first, looking around casually at signs and charts. When they came to a case with the skulls in it, Maura and Sarah came to a standstill.

Sarah looked at Maura, who gave her a questioning glance.

"Female, here on the left. Native American. It looks healthy, considering. No signs of malnutrition. I wish I could see the dentation." The last sounded like a lament.

"Good, now the center.", Maura urged.

"Male, robust, also Native American." Sarah stood on her toes, glancing at the suture joints on the top. "Fairly young, but old enough the suture joints are closed."

"And the final one..."

"A child, who may have died from a blow to the head. The spider webbing on the left side appears to be from a hard, rounded object, like a stone..."

"Or a tomahawk, a traditional one, not the bladed kind.", added Granny.

Someone cleared his throat, and they turned to see a heavy limbed White man standing behind them.

"You seem to know quite a bit about these skulls."

"I'm chief medical examiner for the Boston police, Dr. Maura Isles. This is my colleague, Sarah Harjo, and her grandmother, Mary Harjo, who studies archeology."

"I'm Dr. Ourada, museum anthropologist/curator. I think you might enjoy a visit to our back room."

Eyes wide, they followed him.

End chapter one.


	2. Chapter 2

Field Trip Chapter 2

By Simahoyo

The backroom was fitted with long tables, and file boxes filled with artifacts. A place for huge hanging maps took up a corner. They filed in after Dr. Ourada, crowded close together by the lack of space. He immediately went into teaching mode.

"I can't take out the skulls on display, but there are interesting ones here too." He turned, opening a large drawer, and lifting out a skull. He placed it carefully on the table, then pushed a box of rubber gloves towards them. "You should look at this one. The dentation is typical."

Maura and Sarah pulled the gloves on, while Granny used her eyes to examine the skull first.

Maura lifted it, and started the examination. Granny pulled on gloves.

"This is a male, what do you think, Sarah, about 20 to 25 years old?", asked Maura.

"Let's check the dentation first. Too bad we don't have stomach contents." Sarah handed the skull to Maura.

She opened the jaws carefully, and looked at the teeth.

"Flattened molars, indicating eating grains. Pitted from grit. Stone ground, I suspect."

"That would be different, this area usually ground with hardwood.. It couldn't do that to teeth.," said Granny. She turned to Dr. Ourada. "Did you find stone mortars and pestles."

"Yes, we did. I suspect they changed to hardwood after they lost teeth to dental caries."

"Oh, and I have one for you, Mrs. Harjo." Dr. Ourada pulled open another drawer, lifting out a female skull with another spider web cracking on one side, plus a deep hole in the center. He handed it to Granny, who looked at it carefully.

"I'd say that was a spike tomahawk, hit hard, so the spike went into the brain, and the hardwood ball made the cracking on the skull.. Was that spike flint?"

"I'm impressed. That's what the microscopy indicated.. I don't understand museums that refuse the help of Native experts."

"Oh Sarah, tell him about the email them two gals sent you about the museum in Pennsylvania. "

Sarah grinned, and sat back against the table, far from any artifacts.

"They were going to a display at their local museum about their tribe. When they got there, they discovered that the curator had carefully labeled the items from their tribe as being from an extinct group. So, they went to the curator, and told him they were from that tribe. He told them that it was impossible, since they were extinct. Then they handed him a business card from their tribal office, saying, 'We're in the phone book. All you had to go was pick up the phone.'"

The story got a good laugh from everyone. Especially Dr. Ourada.

"Oh dear, I believe I know who you mean. That would be rather typical."

"Dr. Ourada, where did you study?", asked Maura.

"Boise State University, then the University of Chicago."

"Excellent credentials."

"And you, Dr. Isles?"

"Boston Medical."

"And Sarah?"

"The same. I like learning from the best.", as she smiled at Maura.

"Dr. Ourada, do you have any maps of the Adena towns? I would like to look at how they were arranged.", asked Granny.

Dr. Ourada pulled a map out of the stand, and opened it. He pointed at some of the features.

"Typically, you would find the dual posts with mounds built over them, with a ceremonial center inside. The midden was usually a shell mound, as you can see here."

Granny stared at the map. "This is so different I'm, used to seein' the two big mounds, one at each end, with the ceremonial center, or square surrounded by the houses." These mounds look like they were for just one family or even an important person.. Definitely a different culture"

"The languages all seem to be based on Algonquin–quite different from your Muskogean. What are you looking for?"

"Ha, you ain't so dumb. I'm trackin' the Solutrean contribution to Adena culture. There's a big difference between spoken and written languages."

"My not-so-esteemed colleague in Pennsylvania would balk at you even _saying_ there are written languages."

"He probably would balk at us bein' back here."

Dr Ourada grinned. "I'm sure he would. I also believe he would not even notice we have two Muskogee and a French Canadian."

Maura's eyes widened. "How on earth? I didn't even know until recently."

"I could say it's your underlying bone structure, and a small trace of an accent on certain words, but your body language gives you away."

"Remind me to stay away from you if I ever go undercover again."

"Whoa, hey. I never heard about you going undercover. Can I expect to do that sometime in the future?", asked Sarah a bit too eagerly.

Maura laughed. "I needed to get some DNA from a number of suspects. I'm not very good at it, but, yes, you might be called on to do something similar in the future."

"I should take an acting class. It could be fun."

"I would recommend self-defense classes. I seem to attract men holding weapons..", stated Maura.

"Oh, growing up in Oklahoma is nearly as good as growing up in Idaho. I can shoot, and fight, throw a knife and a hatchet. I just don't carry a gun in my purse."

"Oh God, another Jane." and Maura rolled her eyes.

"Granny taught me."

"Why am I not surprised? Alright, next time someone breaks into my house to make me patch them up, I'm calling you."

"You oughta see what you can do with a broom. I kin chase a drunk out of my place quicker than you kin blink."

End chapter 2


	3. Chapter 3

Fieldtrip Chapter 3

By Simahoyo

They had finished their tour of the museum, thanked Dr. Ourada, and Sarah and Granny had bought a pile of books. Since it was now 1 o'clock, they decided to break for what Granny referred to as, "lunch."

They found a small park nearby, and unloaded the station wagon. As the picnic table filled up, Maura was amazed at the variety of food. Granny looked around the park, and her sharp eyes honed in on a homeless man sitting at the other side. His clothing was ragged but clean. His shoes help together with duck tape, and he was unshaven.

"Sarah, you know what to do."

Sarah walked over to the man, and invited him to eat with them. Maura thought back to how things were done in Ethiopia, and found it familiar. She smiled in welcome.

"Thanks for inviting me. Oh wow. I've never seen so much food." There were tears in his eyes.

Granny just grinned at him. "We like to cook, and I do love to see a man eat my food. Set down and enjoy yerself."

They all sat. The hot food was still hot and the cold still cold. The corn bread was perfect, and the peach jam was smeared on the fry bread. The fried chicken had nearly disappeared along with everything else.

"Did you hear about the article Susan Shown Harjo wrote in_ Indian Country Today_? She dared to say the fry bread is neither traditional nor good for us. Bet she gets hate mail.", commented Sarah.

"I thought it _was _traditional.", said Maura.

"No, corn pones are traditional with us, and others have cakes of wild rice, or acorn meal, or quinoa. Wheat was introduced by Europeans. And we didn't fry stuff much until we got frying pans.."

"Well, this is all delicious. Thanks so much for inviting me.", said their guest.

"So, where are you from?", asked Granny.

"Oregon. I came here for a job, but when I got here, the company went broke, and I can't find anything more than temporary work."

"That's happening far too often. What did you do?"

"I was a sheet metal worker. Most of those jobs went overseas. My union was busted, and so I've been doing yardwork."

Maura's mind was whirling, trying to find an answer. Too bad he wasn't in broadcasting.

"Have you ever done any work with television or radio–or even newspapers?"

His eyes widened. "I used to write for our union newspaper, back in Eugene."

Maura whipped out her purse, and handed him a card.

"This is my Dad. He owns several newspapers. Tell him I talked to you. What's your name?"

"John James. Are you sure? It's a long way from sheet metal work. Who should I tell him I talked to?"

"My name is Maura, but I'm an only child, so if you forget my name..."

"I'll never forget it. Maura. Thank you–all of you. You ladies have made my day. Excuse me while I make a phone call." He got up and nearly flew off toward the public library.

"That was a good meal. And that there was dessert. Thank you, Maura."

After lunch, they returned to the site, and went off to see the actual dig and partial restoration.

Maura noticed Granny and Sarah carrying items she never expected to see at an archeology site.

Sarah had a nice gourd rattle, incised and colored with interesting patterns. Granny held an abalone shell, filled with dried leaves she didn't recognize. There was a book of matches resting on top of them.

When they came to a stop, Granny lit the leaves with a match, and waved smoke towards herself. She passed it to Sarah, who did the same. Sarah looked at Maura, one eyebrow raised, silently asking if she wanted to participate. Maura slowly shook her head.

Granny took the rattle and facing north, she shook it, then blew her breath out making the sound of wind. She turned east, and did the same, then south, repeating the action, then west. She shook the rattle and began to sing. Something inside Maura slid into place, and she found herself relaxing into the ceremony.

When Granny stopped singing, Sarah looked up, and said, "See that?"

Maura and Granny followed her gaze, and there was an eagle circling them. Maura tried to think of it as a coincidence, but she just wasn't able to.

Granny looked at Sarah, asking, "Did you see them?"

"Yes. Gathered over by the shell mound. "

Maura looked and saw nothing. She wondered if the leaves had been hallucinogenic. She knew she looked confused. She could feel the furrows at her brow.

"It's not regular seein' like with the eagle. It's kinda like a movie, but a little transparent. Sarah has trained for years to see like that." Granny gave a short laugh. "And it ain't the leaves. They are plain old blackberry leaves."

Maura was still mystified. No one before had been so open about their beliefs with her. She struggled to categorize, label, and sort.

Sarah sat down on the ground, inviting Maura to join her. Granny sat on a stump.

"Let's try this. You know about Particle Theory. We can see how everything is part of everything else. We have always said this, but when the Europeans first got here, they were stuck in Newtonian physics, and so they decided we were too stupid to get what they were talking about.

So, we work on seeing, and not in the same sense as the eyes see, the connections between things. I was looking for traces of the people who were here before us. You can see the dig, the logs, the charred places, and the holes where wood rotted long ago. I can see traces of the actual people who lived here."

Maura's doubt rushed back. "It doesn't sound scientific at all."

"Not according to the science we share, no. This study isn't for you–it's for me. I invited you to see some of these things so you would understand a little what I am about. I can never fully be part of the White world. I have a foot in each camp. I respect both. You are my teacher, and so is Granny. "

"I have some mental adjustments to make. I am a bit too fond of being right. It is really hard for me to admit I might not know everything."

Granny was smiling warmly. "That is the first step to real wisdom. I knew you were special. Knew it from our first talk. When Sarah's folks died, I stepped in. I ain't gonna live forever, so I wanted to know who was helping her from this point on. Sarah's gonna be able to walk between the worlds."

Maura wondered at the last comment, and decided to think about it. This had been a day of learning.

As they got up to leave, Sarah asked, "Are you related to Louis Riel?"

Maura stood totally still. How did Sarah know her mother's maiden name?

"How is it spelled?"

"R-I-E-L."

" Maybe. We spell it, R-I-A-L-L. Who was he?"

"Someone I think you should ask your mother about. She may have quite a story to share with you."

After she got home, Maura googled the name. Louis Riel. Leader of two _Métis_ rebellions against Anglo-Canada. Then she started a long email to her mother. It was time to see what worlds she might be walking between.

The end.


End file.
